Longships

Horizons and herring made us Vikings

No estuary beyond our sixteen oars and shallow-drafts.

Silver arm-rings we wore, bound by allegiance,

Chained thralls shared our graves

 

Ninety miles a day in a fair wind

Sea-sick abaft oak prows and reeling sails.

Monks in towers prayed for stormy seas but

Stiff with salt it was nuns not gold we wanted

 

After conquest we traded ...

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Llyfnant 2 

version without the Welsh folklore

 

Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river

 

In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls all walkers home

but we pass u...

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Llyfnant

Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river

 

In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls the dryads home

but we pass unseen by woodland folk

'til tylwyth teg w...

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Happiness

Happiness:

The light at the end of the never-ending tunnel.    

The worlds way of fueling us with counterfeit hope. 

The missing pieces of the saddest ever puzzle.      

The forgotten punchline of a humorless joke.        

The untied shoelace that causes a slip and stumble. 

The handful of cheap whiskey and the line of coke.  

The meaningful words hidden deep inside a mumble. ...

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The Little folk

At the end of the garden,by the big old oak

Hidden away from inquisitve eyes,

Is a dwelling place for the little folk

usually mistaken for butterflies!

 

The flowers grow higher, the grass much more sweet,

a soft green carpet under your feet.

It's easy to miss them, not clearly in sight,

the time they enjoy most, is quite late at night!

You see, they are cautious, and da...

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